Fortune Favors the Bold
by CapriciousC
Summary: Continuation of PPSS "An Officer and a Gentleman" entry. Major Edward Masen is a former Air Force Thunderbird, decorated fighter pilot, and a war hero. A guy like that would never go for a girl like MIT engineer Bella Swan. Or would he?
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1 - "Preflight Check"**_

**Author's Note:** This is a continuation of the one-shot I wrote for the Perv Pack Smut Shack's "An Officer and a Gentleman" contest. Thanks to the lovely ladies of the PPSS for hosting that contest, as it lit a fire under my backside and inspired me to finally write something. If you read the one-shot and that's how you found this story, welcome! I do hope you enjoy where we go from here. If you haven't read the one-shot, it's by no means necessary to do so and you might actually want to skip it, or it'll spoil some of the surprises further down the road.

Thanks to the lovely laraisawkward for agreeing to beta this hot mess, and for being a great friend who always makes me laugh and who tweets smutty pictures on a daily basis. If you haven't read her stories, stop now and go read them. Seriously, go now – I'll wait.

There's a link on my profile page to a blog I set up that has pictures of the airplanes in the story, as well as how I imagine Edward and Bella.

This story currently has an "M" rating because I swear like a sailor on shore leave when I'm not around kids, and because there will be sex later.

**Things I own: **Way too many books about airplanes, a bunch of model airplanes, and a lot of really cheesy songs on my iPod.

**Things I don't own:** Twilight or the C-17 Globemaster III.

_**Aduentas Fortuna Juvat**_ = _"Fortune Favors the Bold," _Motto of the 366th Air Expeditionary Fighter Wing

Song for this chapter: "Leaving on a Jet Plane," by John Denver

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=f4hsC0nRvZM

_**High Flight by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.**_

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

Where never lark nor even eagle flew—

And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

BPOV

"…as you can see from the chart, it is critical that we perform to cost and schedule…"

I felt a fog settle over my mind as the speaker droned on. Honestly, these monthly "All Hands Meetings" the vice president of our division insisted on were like corporate-sponsored torture. I needed to pay attention, though – this was important.

"…as we move into the second quarter, our focus is on value-added processes…"

_Oooh! "Value-added." I think I have that on my card._

I looked over my bingo card, and sure enough, there it was. I checked it off and saw that I only needed one more square and I'd have bingo.

_Come on, suit – I just need you to say "synergize" and I win._

"…we will configurate the block design such that…"

A few seats over, I heard someone cough, "Bingo!"

That exclamation was immediately followed by a soft, but vehement "Dammit!" from my coworker and best friend, Rosalie Hale, who was seated next to me. "Who won?"

I looked down the row to see Eric Yorkie, one of the Flight Test Engineers, being quietly congratulated by a few other engineers as the speaker continued to lovingly describe his charts.

"Yorkie," I replied.

"He seems to win an awful lot," she said. "If I didn't know it was mathematically impossible to cheat, I'd beat his ass."

I snickered, "He may very well enjoy that."

We went back to pretending to pay attention, resigned to the fact that we had to sit out the rest of the meeting, even though our game of Buzzword Bingo was over. Unfortunately, regular attendance at these kinds of meetings was part of our jobs.

Rose, Eric and I were among the thousands of engineers who worked for The Boeing Company. Boeing built a number of different kinds of airplanes, but we all worked on the C-17 Globemaster III program. The C-17 was a cargo aircraft flown primarily by the US Air Force, although the air forces in the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia and Qatar each had a few airplanes, as did NATO. Most of the time we really enjoyed our jobs – almost everyone we worked with really loved airplanes and we had all gone from building model airplanes as kids to working with the "real thing" as adults. But every couple of weeks, we had to attend some management-mandated meeting that bored us to tears.

The bingo game had been spawned several months ago after another meeting just like this one. Seth Clearwater, an engineer from the Flight Controls group, had decided we needed something to occupy our time, but that would allow us to look like we were paying attention to the speaker like good little engineers. He had written a computer program that chose words and phrases from a list of "management-speak buzzwords" that we seemed to hear repeatedly during these meetings, and randomly placed them on squares laid out in a traditional bingo card format. Before each meeting he printed up cards for each of us. The winner of each game not only earned dubious bragging rights, but had their name removed from the weekly drawing to see who was going to bring in baked goods on Friday morning. The weekly drawing was the result of another of Seth's computer programs – it randomly spit out one of our names on Thursday, and that person had to stop at the bakery on the way into work Friday morning to pick up donuts, bagels, muffins and other assorted pastries. Winning the bingo game meant Eric would be getting free breakfast for the next four Fridays, guaranteed.

"What word did he win on, anyway? Configurate? Is that even a word?" Rose asked.

"Sure it is…just like strategery."

She shot me a nasty look and I refrained from giggling. Sometimes I liked to provoke Rose just for laughs, but today was not the day for that. I knew she'd had to skip lunch because of another meeting and then she had come straight here. She was probably hungry, and therefore cranky. I rooted through my bag and pulled out a chocolate chip granola bar and handed it to her.

She smiled at me in gratitude and whispered, "Thanks Mom," before she began to discreetly eat the granola bar.

_I knew she would forget to bring anything to eat._

Rose and I had been best friends for years. We met as freshmen at MIT. At first I had been intimidated by her – she looked like a supermodel, and by the end of our first multivariable calculus class it was readily apparent to everyone in the room that she was brilliant. In fact, if she hadn't sought me out I wasn't sure that we would have become friends – I would have been afraid to approach her. But seek me out she did. There were so few girls in most of our classes, that what little information was known about us tended to get passed around like urban legend by the boys in an attempt to learn more about us. So when she approached me at the end of the second week of classes, I wasn't surprised that she knew who I was; I was, however, surprised by how much we had in common.

It turned out that we were both military brats – Rose's dad was a pilot in the Navy, my dad had been a pilot in the Air Force. We sat in the cafeteria after dinner one night and talked about growing up all over the world, moving every few years, changing schools, and making new friends. We had both been fascinated with airplanes from the time we could talk, and couldn't remember ever wanting to do anything other than build them. We bonded over the strangeness of being one of such a small number of women at the school. I was sure that Rose would be used to all the attention, because of her beauty, and told her so. She told me that she had four older brothers, and that they were very protective of her. When they realized that boys were starting to notice her, they started putting out the word that any boy caught with her would have to deal with them. As a result, the boys at her various schools had avoided her. She wasn't really bothered by it, though – she saw how stupid her own brothers were in regard to the girls they dated, and figured that they had actually saved her a lot of trouble. Now, of course, her brothers were nowhere in sight and the boys were swarming around her like sharks. She said that she just wanted to focus on school, though – coming to MIT had always been her dream and she was determined not to mess it up.

I understood that perfectly – MIT had always been my dream, too. And while I may not have had boys swarming like sharks, I had been on the receiving end of more male attention in the last two weeks than I had been in the sixteen years previous. _That_ was the big secret I divulged to Rose that night – I was only sixteen. I had always been a good student, and my mom was an art teacher who was very dedicated to the idea of supplementing my regular school education with "enrichment activities." As a result I had skipped two grades and graduated early. I was worried that Rose wouldn't want to hang out with a kid like me, but she took me under her wing – saying that she had been on the receiving end of overbearing older siblings' "care" for years and was looking forward to being the older one for a change.

In the end we took care of each other, and after working side-by-side to earn our bachelor's degrees, and then our doctorates, we had come to Boeing together nearly three years ago. In some ways Boeing was just like MIT – there were very few women, and it was a thin slice of nerd heaven. On the plus side, we had real jobs, which meant we were no longer living on Ramen noodles cooked on an illegal hotplate in a dorm room.

I realized I had been daydreaming when Rose nudged me with her elbow and said, "Check this out – they're actually talking about something interesting."

I looked up and saw that there was a new person at the podium. I recognized him as a member of the company's Recovery and Modification Services – or RAMS – team, as everyone called them. He began showing pictures of a very damaged aircraft – the landing gear had been completely ripped off the airplane, and there were gaping holes in the metal skin.

"Is that the one at Bagram?" I asked Rose. She nodded.

A couple of months before, one of the Air Force's C-17s had veered off the runway at Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan while trying to land. The damage was extensive, and Boeing had sent about twenty specialists to Afghanistan to repair the airplane to the point where it could be flown back the US so the complete repairs could be conducted here at the Boeing facility. The speaker was now showing pictures of the "repaired" aircraft and explaining what they had done to "fix" it. They had raised the airplane with cranes and installed new landing gear, but it still had big holes in the skin on the bottom and sides and looked just awful.

The RAMS representative asked if anyone had any questions, and another engineer asked the question that I'm sure many of us were thinking.

"No offense to your team – I'm sure they've done a great job and all – but you're seriously saying that that airplane is flightworthy? It's ready to come back here?"

The RAMS guy said, "I know it looks bad, and it is. But really, there's not much more we can do out there at Bagram. It _will_ fly, but it's going to be a challenge, and there are going to be a lot of restrictions on the flight. As a result, it has been decided that two of the Air Force's test pilots will bring the airplane back. We honestly don't think anyone else is qualified to fly the airplane in this condition."

I looked over at Rose, and she appeared to be as surprised as I was. They were sending one of the flight test pilots? We worked with all of those guys on a daily basis, but none of them had said anything about this. They were more than just coworkers – we considered most of them to be good friends.

The meeting was adjourned, and Rose and I stood up to walk back to our offices. Eric Yorkie, Seth Clearwater, and a few of the other engineers we worked with regularly came up to us.

Mike Newton, another Flight Test engineer, asked Rose and I, "Did you two know they were sending two of the test pilots over?"

Rose answered for both of us, "No, this is the first we've heard of it."

Eric said, "Well, you know sometimes those guys know things that they can't tell us. They might have been ordered to keep quiet about it until it became official or something."

Eric had a good point, actually. We did work closely with the Air Force test pilots, and spent time with them socially as well as at work, but ultimately they were military and we were civilians. Inevitably there were things that they just couldn't tell us. All of us Boeing engineers had top secret security clearances, but some information was on a "need-to-know" basis, and apparently this had been one of those things that we didn't need to know.

Seth added, "I'm sure they'll all be at the party at Carlisle's tomorrow – we can ask them about it then."

Another good point – Colonel Carlisle Cullen, the Air Base Wing Commander who was in charge of all the test pilots we worked with, was hosting a going-away party the following day for one of the pilots. Captain Peter Quincy had received new orders, and was transferring to Hickam Air Force Base in Hawaii. He,his wife Charlotte, and their son Elijah would be leaving in a few days, so Carlisle and his wife Esme were getting everyone together one last time. Surely all of the pilots would be there to say goodbye to Peter – we could get some answers then.

The following afternoon we were greeted at the door of the Cullen's house by the oldest of their four children, their son William.

"Ladies," he said with a smile, "so glad you could make it. Why don't I help you carry those dishes into the kitchen."

I stifled a giggle as he took the pie plate from me and the dish of deviled eggs from Rosalie. At fifteen, William was already over six feet tall, with his father's bright blue eyes and his mother's delicate features. I was certain that these traits, combined with his sweet nature and inherent charm, had many of the girls at his high school in a flurry. For the last several months, however, it had been readily apparent that he had an epic crush on Rosalie. She pretended to be completely oblivious and treated him the same as all of our other friends' children.

We followed William into the kitchen where he announced our presence to Esme.

"Mom, Rose and Bella are here. Don't you think they look lovely? And look, they brought food." He turned back to Rose and I, "That was so thoughtful of you."

He beamed a bright smile at both of us, which quickly dimmed at Esme's words.

"That's Dr. Hale and Dr. Swan to you, young man. Now take these steaks out to your father at the grill."

As William skulked out of the kitchen, Esme looked at us apologetically. "I'm sorry about that – I overheard him asking Carlisle last night for advice on how to talk to girls. I assumed he had a crush on someone at school – I never imagined he'd be trying to chat you up."

"Oh, Esme, it's fine," Rose answered. "He's a good boy. If it makes you feel any better, my brothers all went through similar phases, and they turned out more or less okay."

"Thanks," Esme replied. "He is a sweet boy and I really can't complain – I'll just have to have Carlisle remind him about "appropriate behavior." Will's right, though – you do both look lovely and it's very thoughtful of you to bring something."

She looked at the dishes we had brought. "Deviled eggs and lilikoi pie? Thank you, they look delicious. Would you mind taking them outside? Everyone else is out there - I'll be out in just a minute."

Rose and I made our way into the backyard, where we found the majority of our coworkers, along with a number of spouses and children. Rose was immediately accosted by our friend Alice Whitlock.

"Are those deviled eggs? Can I have one?"

We watched as Alice stuffed an egg into her mouth, and then began to chew and hum simultaneously.

"Mmmfff…..so good," she mumbled around a mouthful of egg.

She met our raised eyebrows with a smile and, "Shut up, I'm eating for two, you know."

"We know, sweetie," I replied. "I'd ask if you were having any morning sickness, but I think I already know the answer to that."

"No, I feel great. I always do, you know, until…" she trailed off.

Rose and I pulled her into a hug simultaneously. Alice was married to Captain Jasper Whitlock, one of the test pilots we worked with. High school sweethearts who had gotten married right after she finished college and got her teaching certificate, they had been trying for the last year to have a baby. Alice had no trouble getting pregnant, but she had had three miscarriages in the last twelve months. Everyone was hoping that this fourth pregnancy was going to be the lucky one for them.

"Okay, I'm not going to be all emo, especially when I've got gossip!"

"Oooh, excellent – just let us go say hello to Carlisle and then we'll find a spot in the shade for you to dish," Rose answered.

The three of us made our way over to where Carlisle was manning the grill.

"Rose, Bella, so glad you could make it! Alice, you're positively glowing. There are some drinks in the cooler over there, and we should be ready to eat in about fifteen minutes."

We thanked him, and then went to get drinks and find a cool spot to sit and talk. It occurred to me that William hadn't fallen too far from the charm tree. He was definitely his father's son. Carlisle was one of those guys that could charm the socks off of you without even trying. He was completely dedicated to Esme, and although I'd personally witnessed women all but throwing themselves at him, he never encouraged them in the slightest. He was very handsome, with a kind demeanor that drew people in. Not just women, either – men, small children, housepets – no one was immune to his charm. His charisma, combined with his talents as a pilot, had served him well in his career.

As soon as we had gotten comfortable in three patio chairs in the shade of a jacaranda tree, Rose turned to Alice and ordered, "Okay, shorty – spill."

Alice leaned in conspiratorially. "It just so happens that I know all about the pilot who's rotating in to replace Peter."

That certainly peaked our interest. The arrival of a new test pilot was always greeted with a combination of excitement and trepidation. The test pilots had the authority to approve or reject all of our proposed design changes – if we got someone easygoing with a technical background, it would make the lives of every engineer in our division easier. If we got someone who liked to throw his weight around, metaphorically speaking, or who was just difficult to get along with, it would make our daily working lives far more complicated than they needed to be. We already had one such pilot – Captain James Hunter. He was an excellent pilot, but as a human being he left quite a bit to be desired. He was smarmy and arrogant and Rose and I both suspected that he enjoyed making us jump through hoops unnecessarily – either because he was bitter that we had both refused to go out with him, or simply because he was a jackass. Carlisle kept him on a relatively short leash and didn't allow him to make excessive amounts of trouble for us, but he still waited three times as long as any of the other pilots before making a decision, and was always asking us for "more information to help him make his decision." He had about six months left before he rotated to another assignment, and we couldn't wait to be rid of him.

Alice continued, "His name is Edward Masen, and he's a Major. He was a year ahead of Jazz at the Air Force Academy, and they were on the baseball team together. He majored in aerospace engineering, and after flight school he flew F-15 fighters for a few years. After that he was on the Thunderbird team for a couple of years, and about six years ago he requested training on the C-17. Oh, and he's single. And cute."

"Good God, Alice, do you know his shoe size, too?" I asked.

"Not definitively, no, but I have met him several times over the years and he's got big feet. And really nice hands. I think you'll like him, Bella."

"Oh, Alice, please don't. I know you love to play matchmaker –"

"I won't try to set you up with him, I promise. I know you have this thing against dating people you work with."

Rose interrupted, "It's not like a rule or anything – she just told Yorkie and Mike Newton that so they'd stop asking her out. They still follow her around like a couple of puppies though."

"Oooh, so maybe she would consider going out with Edward then," Alice replied.

"Excuse me, but "she" is sitting right here and can handle her own love life, thank you," I interjected.

"Sorry," Alice apologized. "It's just that you're our only single friend and we want to see you happy."

"Sweetie, I am happy, and when the right guy comes along, I have a feeling I'll just know."

Thankfully, Rose chose that moment to change the subject. "So, Alice, you seem to have more information than the CIA – what do you know about the Air Force sending over a couple of test pilots to bring that busted airplane back from Afghanistan?"

"Oh, yeah – Bear's going. He's meeting Edward at Bagram and they're going to fly the plane back together. Jazz just told me this morning – apparently it was all hush-hush until it became official."

I felt my stomach drop. Captain Emmett "Bear" McCarty was not only one of my favorite pilots, he was just about one of my favorite people, ever. He was a huge mountain of a man whose appearance was intimidating until he smiled at you and you realized that he was just a big teddy bear.

Flying that airplane all the way back from Afghanistan was going to be dangerous, no matter who was doing the flying. I knew that the test pilots were the best qualified to do it – only the very best pilots got a chance to be test pilots – but I'd never seen an airplane so damaged. From the pictures they had shown us yesterday, it barely looked capable of getting off the ground, much less being flown halfway around the world.

I looked at Alice. For her sake I was glad Jasper wasn't going. I really liked Jasper and I was glad he wasn't going to be put in harm's way any more than his job usually required. But I didn't want Bear to go, either. Truth be told, I didn't want anyone we knew doing something so risky.

Rose knew what I was thinking without me having to say a word. "Bella, I know those pictures looked really bad, but they wouldn't clear the plane to fly if they weren't sure it could make it." She and Alice looked at each other and then back at me. They both appeared to be searching for something to say to calm me, and I knew they knew I was thinking about my dad.

My father, Charlie Swan, had been a pilot in the Air Force. He flew fighters and bombers and had been decorated numerous times. Two years ago he and another pilot he was friends with were out flying the experimental homebuilt airplane they had built in my parents' garage when there was a mechanical failure and the plane crashed, killing them both. I knew firsthand that even the most skilled pilots weren't invincible. Bear was an excellent pilot, but there was already so much wrong with that airplane. If the smallest thing went wrong…

As if he knew that I was worrying about him, Bear chose that moment to appear with Jasper.

"Ladies, why the long faces? I'm here now, what are your other two wishes?" He winked at me as Jasper shook his head wryly and sat next to Alice, putting an arm around her.

Rose and Alice both smiled at him, but I feared I looked as stricken as I felt.

"Bella, what's wrong?" Bear was immediately serious as he looked closely at me.

"I…I'm just…" I hesitated – was it fair of me to burden him with my worries?

Rose apparently had no such qualms. "She's worried about you flying that busted-ass airplane all the way back from Afghanistan."

His eyes softened as he said, "Bella, honey – I understand why you're worried, but you know those RAMS guys are the best. This is what they do. Trust me, I wouldn't fly that plane if I wasn't sure it was ready to go, and I have every intention of checking it out myself when I get there."

"Bear, I've seen the pictures. That's not an airplane, that's metal in the vague shape of an airplane."

"I know it looks bad, but they said most of the damage was to the bottom of the plane, the landing gear and some pipes. The wings were completely untouched. Besides, I'm going to have our new pilot with me – he's even going to be pilot in command. Not only does he outrank me, he used to be a Thunderbird. I promise I won't do anything stupid. I promise you I'm coming back."

"You'd damn well better," I answered with a little sniffle.

At that, Bear put his hands on my shoulders and said, "You know what we need here? A little music to lighten the mood." There was general groaning in response to this statement – Bear was a ham who would break into song at any given opportunity.

"_All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go,"_ he began singing.

"Oh, hell," Jasper said while covering his ears, "it's John Denver."

"_I hate to wake you up to say goodbye."_

"Bear, you watch far too many cheesy movies," said Rose.

Bear continued to sing, undeterred by the comments.

"_So kiss me and smile for me, tell me that you'll wait for me, hold me like you'll never let me go."_

Alice clapped and giggled, "I love this song!"

"'_Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again. Oh, babe, I hate to go."_

Yes, the song was cheesy, but it was just what I needed at that moment. I hugged Bear and whispered in his ear, "Thank you."

He whispered back, "Anything for you, little sis."

**Question:** Have you ever invented/played any games to make your job more interesting? If so, please share!

**Author's Note #2:** A lot of things in this story are drawn from my real-life experiences working on the C-17 program at Boeing. The C-17 is a real aircraft flown by the US Air Force, as well as other military forces. I no longer work at Boeing, but I still have a lot of ties to the C-17 and military community, and I would never write anything to either endanger or embarrass any of those people. The incident with the airplane at Bagram Airfield is in fact a true story. However, the details associated with that incident, and everything you'll read in this story related to the aircraft will be public information. I held a security clearance for more than a decade and take that responsibility very seriously – nothing you read here will be either classified or Boeing proprietary. I don't mean to get all heavy – in general this is going to be a pretty light and fluffy story. I do want to be clear, though, that I have the highest respect for those in the service and would never do anything to endanger any of them. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2 – "Kick the Tires and Light the Fires"**_

**Author's Note:** Thanks as always to my fabulous beta laraisawkward. In addition to fixing my mistakes and making my writing coherent, she always makes me laugh. She has dubbed our couple "Planeward" and "Engineerella." I love those monikers so much it's now how I'm referring to them in my head. When you get tired of me cockblocking you, go read her fabulous stories!

**Things I own:** A whole lot of old-school punk music, a husband who saw the Dead Kennedys live at the Deaf Club, and a handsome certificate from The Boeing Company and the United States Air Force thanking me for my work on the busted-ass airplane referenced below.

**Things I don't own:** Twilight or the C-17

Link to Shane MacGowan reading _"An Irish Airman Foresees His Death":_

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=Loq95zsixBk

_**An Irish Airman Foresees His Death by W.B. Yeats**_

I know that I shall meet my fate  
Somewhere among the clouds above;  
Those that I fight I do not hate,  
Those that I guard I do not love;  
My country is Kiltartan Cross,  
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,  
No likely end could bring them loss  
Or leave them happier than before.  
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,  
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,  
A lonely impulse of delight  
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;  
I balanced all, brought all to mind,  
The years to come seemed waste of breath,  
A waste of breath the years behind  
In balance with this life, this death.

EPOV

"_It's always tease, tease, tease…You're happy when I'm on my knees."_

The sounds of The Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" drifted toward me as I stood in the doorway to the barracks, drinking a cup of coffee that I feared would dissolve the lining of my stomach. I had watched the sunrise over the Hindu Kush mountains, and was now awaiting the arrival of one Captain McCarty, the test pilot who was going to accompany me and a very broken airplane back to the Boeing facility and my new assignment.

The sound of jet engines drew my attention, and I looked up to see an aircraft making the turn to begin its final approach to the runway.

_C-17 - coming in from Manas Air Base based on the tail number – that's probably McCarty's flight._

I knew that the liaison officer would meet his flight and bring him to the hangar where they were keeping the aircraft we were going to fly back, so I decided to make my way over there and wait for him.

As I neared the hangar, I heard a Dead Kennedys song being blasted from the interior, and chuckled to myself. The airmen and Boeing specialists inside performing last-minute checks on the plane sure liked their punk music. They had gone above and beyond what I thought was possible to get the airplane ready to fly again. It still looked like hell, but it was flightworthy – I'd checked and double-checked the repairs myself. Just because I'd spent the last couple of years flying in a war zone didn't mean I was going to take unnecessary risks.

I had spent the last decade bouncing around the world, and now it was time to go home. I was grateful for all of the experiences I had had, thankful for the opportunity to see the world. But the older I got, the more I realized that as glamorous and exciting as my life might seem to others, for me it was often lonely. I had made great friends everywhere I went, but I didn't get to see my family as often as I wanted, and more and more I envied the guys who had wives or girlfriends waiting at home for them.

My friend Jasper Whitlock was a prime example of one of those guys I envied. He and his wife Alice had been high school sweethearts, and she had stuck by him through the Academy and flight school, and all of his subsequent duty assignments. The last time I'd seen him in person, at our ten-year Academy class reunion, he had told me that it didn't much matter to him where the Air Force sent him; as long as Alice was there, it would be home for him.

At the time his statement had seemed a little hokey to me – I had a girlfriend, and she was great, but "home"? Nah, I'd never felt anything like that. In the months following that conversation, though, I came to realize that perhaps he had a point. Jasper wasn't the only person I knew who felt that way about their significant other – I knew that my parents felt the same way about each other, and my sister Maggie and her husband were also very obviously happy together. Knowing that I didn't feel that way about my then-girlfriend, but still caring enough about her to not want to string her along, I ended our relationship and moved on. Maybe someday I'd be lucky enough to find that person who felt like "home" to me.

My family – in particular my mother and my sister – was thrilled that I was returning stateside, and that I was finally taking a "safe" job. Being a test pilot wasn't going to be without its own risks, but compared to flying fighters and then being over here for the last two years, it was considerably less risky. I was excited about the challenge of being a test pilot, of working with new designs and helping to improve the airplane for all the pilots who flew her. I was also looking forward to being settled in one place for more than a year or two at a time, to being able to fly to see my family for holidays, or have them come visit me, and to having a place of my own that wasn't base housing. Another perk would be working with Jasper on a regular basis – although we had remained friends since we each left the Academy, we'd never been stationed together. I missed hanging out with him, and knowing that he and Alice were already settled in at the flight test wing made me feel like I had people who cared awaiting my arrival.

The head of the Boeing RAMS team saw me standing at the hangar entrance and approached me. "What do you think, sir? She look ready to you?"

"I think she's good to go, Tom. You and your guys are miracle workers. I have to tell you, I was here the night she went off the runway, and I thought for sure she'd be headed for the scrap heap. I certainly never expected to see her standing on her own landing gear, ready to be flown again."

"Well, thanks. My guys had their work cut out for them, but the Battle Damage Repair guys were a huge help, too. Lucky for all of us that the C-17's such a sturdy airplane. Thing's like a Mack truck with wings."

I smiled at his apt description. When I had first transitioned from flying F-15 fighters to the C-17, I had likened it to going from driving a racy sports car to an eighteen-wheeler, although I kept that comparison to myself. People already thought fighter pilots had huge egos, the last thing I needed to do was alienate my crewmates by seeming to disparage the airplane. I had requested training on the C-17 specifically, and over time I found that flying this particular airplane was more rewarding than any other flying I had ever done.

Tom spoke up again, "Hey Major, looks like your co-pilot is here. Jesus, he's huge – you think he's gonna fit in the cockpit?"

I turned my head to see the liaison officer approaching with one of the biggest men I had ever seen. He had to be close to six feet five inches tall, and I'd guess he weighed in at over 250 pounds.

"Look at it this way, Tom – if we blow a tire on the flight back, we won't need a jack. I think this guy could lift the airplane all on his own."

Tom chuckled as we waited for the two men to get close enough for us to greet them. When they reached us, we exchanged salutes, and Tom tipped his baseball hat at them.

The liaison officer made the introductions, "Major Masen, may I present Captain Emmett McCarty. Captain McCarty, Major Edward Masen."

We shook hands and I introduced them both to Tom and explained that he was in charge of the repair activities. Tom asked Captain McCarty if he would like a briefing on the repairs that had been conducted, and we all agreed to head into the hangar to look over the airplane.

As we walked around the airplane and Tom explained all the work that had been done, Captain McCarty closely examined all the repairs and asked a number of pertinent questions. I was impressed by his thoroughness and detailed knowledge of the aircraft – if he and Jasper were typical of the other test pilots I was going to be working with, I was really going to enjoy my new assignment.

We circled the main landing gear, and suddenly a guy jumped down from the wheel well onto the hangar floor. As he stood up I noted that he was wearing civilian clothes and a Boeing badge. He also didn't look old enough to drive, let alone repair an airplane worth half a billion dollars.

Captain McCarty noticed him and boomed, "Riley! Boy, does your momma know where you are?" I had noticed a slight southern accent previously, but with this sentence it became obvious. I wondered where McCarty was from originally.

The kid smiled at him and said, "Hey, Bear – you flying this thing back to the plant?"

_Bear? That was an appropriate nickname – Captain McCarty was about the size of a grizzly._

"Yep, me and Major Masen here. Major, this is Riley Johnson – he's one of the Battle Damage Repair engineers at Boeing. Riley, this is Major Edward Masen, our new test pilot."

I shook hands with the kid, and said, "Please call me Edward, both of you."

Captain McCarty smiled and said, "Sure thing – you're going to fit right in at the test wing, we're a pretty casual bunch. You're welcome to call me Bear, everyone does."

Riley and Tom excused themselves, saying they had some data to look over, and Bear and I continued our walk-around. I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer and finally asked Bear, "How old is that kid? Is he really an engineer?"

Bear laughed and said, "He's twenty-four or twenty-five – doesn't look old enough to shave, does he? That's something you'll have to get used to a bit at Boeing – they've got some engineers working there look like their mommas should still be wiping their noses, they're so young. They're all damned smart, though. Riley? That kid knows this airplane tip to tail. You mind if I give you a bit of advice about your new assignment?"

"Not at all, I'd appreciate it, actually."

"Just keep in mind that old saying about not judging a book by its cover – you might think you're dealing with a comic book, only to find out it's _War and Peace_."

"Thanks, I'll try to remember that," I replied.

As we stood looking at the airplane, the repair team apparently decided to up the volume on their soundtrack, and a Bad Religion song began blaring from the sound system.

"_Let Them Eat War?_ That's kind of a ballsy choice, don't you think?" Bear asked me.

"I think Command realizes that everybody needs to blow off a little steam now and then – they tend to turn a blind eye to this kind of thing. Besides, they were playing a song called _Too Drunk to Fuck_ just before you got here – this is comparatively tame."

"Ah, it warms my heart to see young people appreciating the classics like the Dead Kennedys," Bear said with a smile.

"You a big punk fan, Bear?" I asked. I was a bit surprised, but tried to keep my expression neutral.

"Nah, I wouldn't say I'm a big fan, although I do like some of it. I'm from a pretty rural part of Tennessee and went to college in Atlanta so I didn't really have any exposure to punk music until a year or so ago. I have a friend who's a big fan, though, and she has "educated" me on the finer points." Bear smiled and made little finger quotes as he spoke.

"Ah, well that's cool. So, you hungry? We could get some grub and I'll show you where you're staying."

"I'm so hungry I could eat the ass out of a dead rhinoceros," Bear answered. I paused for a moment, stunned, and then we both broke into loud laughter. I was really going to enjoy working with this guy.

A few days later the final repairs and checks had been performed on the aircraft, and we were ready to depart. The night before the guys in my squadron had thrown me a little going-away party, although we kept it relatively tame. I knew that the next few days were going to challenge all of my skills as a pilot, and I didn't want to complicate things by being tired or hungover.

I met Bear in the hangar and we watched the ground crew use a tug to push the aircraft out onto the flight ramp. Once the plane was clear of the hangar and disconnected from the tug, I looked at Bear and asked, "You ready to go home?"

He looked back at me with a grin on his face which I was beginning to realize was characteristic of him, and said, "Hell yes – let's kick the tires and light the fires!"

Bear and I did one final walk-around of the airplane, and then headed to the cockpit to perform the pre-flight checklist. Once the checklist was complete, I radioed the ground crew to connect us to the external power source and let the guys in the back know to get strapped in for engine start. We had six passengers total – two members of the Boeing RAMS team, two Battle Damage Repair specialists, and two Air Force mechanics. If anything went wrong with the airplane, they would hopefully be able to fix it and get us back in the air.

Bear started the engines, and I taxied the aircraft out to the end of the runway. While we waited for air traffic control to give us our takeoff clearance, I took one last look at the base that I had called home for the past two years. I hoped that I had done some good here. If nothing else, I was proud of all the humanitarian missions we had flown, providing food and other necessities to the Afghan people.

ATC granted us our clearance, and I maneuvered the aircraft through the takeoff and into the turn that would take us toward Qatar, our destination for today's flight. Because of all the damage to the aircraft, it was going to take us five days to fly back to the Boeing facility. We had to fly "low and slow", as a number of systems on the plane were inoperable.

Bear and I didn't talk much that first day. We were both focused intently on the airplane and its responses, trying to see what she was and wasn't capable of. The next day we departed Qatar for Sicily, and things were a bit more relaxed. By the time we left Sicily for the Azores, we felt confident in our ability to handle the aircraft. We flew low enough that we could see ships on the surface of the ocean, and Bear was sure that he had seen a whale at one point. I really liked flying with him – he was professional and a very good pilot, but he was also easygoing and lent a relaxed, stress-free atmosphere to the cockpit that I truly appreciated.

Our final stop before heading for the Boeing facility in California was in Charleston, South Carolina. As soon as we were on the ground and had shut down the engines, I turned on my cell phone and called my mom. She had made me promise I would let her know the minute I was back in the U.S. She cried, predictably, and handed the phone to my dad. He told me that the house my mom and sister had found for me to rent was all ready to go and that the landlord was holding the keys for me, and was expecting my call tomorrow when I landed at my new assignment. I was incredibly grateful to all of them – my mom and Maggie had insisted that they be allowed to take care of finding me someplace "suitable" to live. I suspected that they believed that after years of living in base housing, I'd end up in some deplorable "bachelor cave" with rats living in the closets or something. Based on their e-mails over the past few weeks, they had enjoyed the process of finding me a new home and setting it up to be ready for my arrival. I was happy not to be going to a hotel for an indefinite period of time, and the pictures they had sent me had me looking forward to settling in.

A liaison officer met us as we climbed down the airstairs, and told us that they had arranged for a van and a driver to take the eight of us to get something to eat and then show us our quarters. Once we all piled into the van, Bear asked the driver if it would be possible for us to go eat somewhere off-base. The driver replied that he could take us anywhere we wanted to go.

Bear's characteristic grin lit up his face, and he asked how we all felt about barbecue. His question was met with an enthusiastic "hell yeah" from everyone in the van. I hadn't had decent barbecue in a couple of years, and the guys who had been on the flight with us had been at Bagram for more than two months – we were all excited about the prospect of comfort food.

Bear looked over at me and said, "So Edward, where are you from originally?"

"I grew up in Chicago – lived there until I went to college."

"That's right, you and Jasper were at the Academy together. Both played on the baseball team?"

"Yep – Jasper's a hell of a pitcher. Probably could've gone pro if he had wanted."

"Mmmm….Chicago," Bear mused. "Well, I reckon you know ribs, but tonight you're going to get a taste of some true southern barbecue."

A while later we arrived at a place called Bessinger's. Over a couple of beers and some of the best barbecue I had ever eaten, I got to know Bear and the Boeing engineers a bit better.

When I asked Bear how he liked being a test pilot, he replied, "It's the best of both worlds, really. You get to fly almost daily, but you also get to sleep in your own bed most nights. We mostly conform to the Boeing schedule, so it's like a regular nine to five job in that way. Although, we have to work with a bunch of pocket-protector wearing nerds like Riley over there…" Bear winked at me and smiled at Riley, who shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah," Riley said. "Just wait until I get management to approve my design, then you'll be out of luck."

"What design is that?" I asked.

Riley looked at the other engineer and then back at me. "We have a design in the works that'll make the airplane flyable by one pilot. And a dog."

"A dog?" I asked, as Bear groaned, "Ugh, don't encourage them."

"Yep, a dog. The pilot's job will be to feed the dog. The dog's job is to bite the pilot if he tries to touch anything in the airplane," Riley answered with a grin.

I realized that I had stumbled into a friendly rivalry that had probably been going on for ages. Bear confirmed this suspicion when he looked at Riley and grumbled, "Pencil-neck."

Riley snarked back, "At least I have a neck."

Bear turned to me and said, "You see? Smart as a whip, but no respect. Kids these days, sheesh."

The other Boeing engineer, a kid named Jack who hadn't uttered more than five words since we had met, chose that point to jump into the conversation. "Don't let him fool you, Major Masen. However they feel about the rest of us geeks, none of the pilots mind working with Dr. Hale or Dr. Swan. And they came from MIT, which is like nerd Nirvana."

"Yeah, well, they're not as mouthy as the two of you," Bear answered. He then looked at me and said, "You'll meet them soon enough – just remember what I said about books and covers."

I was curious as to what he meant, but before I got a chance to ask any more questions, Riley spoke up. "Books, Bear? I didn't know you could read." Bear threw a sugar packet at Riley and threatened to pour barbecue sauce up his nose, at which point I decided we should probably head back to the base.

The next day we completed the last leg of our flight, landing at the Boeing facility in the late afternoon. We were met by a fairly large group of people, including more members of the Boeing RAMS team, and a ground crew who immediately connected the airplane to a tug and began moving it into a nearby hangar. I looked over to see Bear sending a text message on his phone, and then he turned to me and asked if I needed a ride anywhere. My dad had told me my car was at my new house, and since the landlord lived next door, I had been planning to just call a taxi to take me over there. Bear insisted that he could drive me, and we headed out to the parking lot and climbed into his Jeep.

When we pulled up in front of the house, Bear looked around and said, "This is nice – you're really close to the beach here."

"Yeah, my mom and sister picked the place out. I told them I missed the ocean."

"Well, Colonel Cullen isn't expecting either of us in until Monday morning. If you want to take care of your paperwork and meet a few people first, though, I could come by tomorrow and show you around."

"That would be great, thanks. Do you mind if we do it just after lunch? I'm kind of fried."

"Yeah, that sounds cool," Bear replied. "I'll pick you up here at one o'clock tomorrow."

"Okay, man, see you then."

As Bear drove off I noticed an elderly lady come out of the house next door. "You must be Edward, am I right?"

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

"I'm Mary Swanson, I own the house. It's so nice to meet you. Your mother and sister are such lovely people. I have the key for you right here."

She handed me the keys to the house, and I thanked her.

"Now, if you need anything at all you let me know, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." I unlocked the door and walked into my new house. It was a bungalow style, and Maggie and my mom had had my furniture brought out of storage and filled the house with it. They had put pictures on the fireplace mantel, and when I checked the refrigerator and pantry, I found them both full of food. A quick check in the garage showed me that my Volvo was also here, and it looked as though they had had it detailed. I smiled and decided that I would send flowers to both of them first thing tomorrow. I pulled out my cell phone and called Maggie – as she answered I could hear my niece and nephew in the background.

"Mags, I'm standing in my new kitchen. Thank you so much – I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you and Mom did."

"Anything for you, baby brother. We're just so glad you're home. We're all planning to come visit just as soon as the kids are out of school, okay?"

"That sounds perfect, I can't wait to see all of you."

"You sound tired, Edward. The flight went okay? Nothing went wrong?"

"The flight was fine, and I'm fine, Mags, but I am tired. I think I'm going to warm up something to eat and go to bed. I have a couple of days off before I have to report for duty, but I'm going to get some paperwork taken care of tomorrow. Can you call Mom and tell her thanks for me? I'll call her this weekend, I promise."

"Sure thing. Get some rest. We love you."

"Love you too."

After making myself a quick dinner and taking a shower, I climbed into bed and was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.

I woke up late the next morning and made myself some breakfast before exploring the house a bit further. There was a nice little backyard, complete with a barbecue. I also discovered a note from my mom telling me that the phone service, cable TV and internet access had been activated along with the other utilities. I found my laptop and logged onto a floral website and ordered flowers for both Maggie and my mom before I could forget. Then I hurried and got in the shower so I'd be ready when Bear arrived.

He pulled into the driveway promptly at one o'clock, and we drove to the Boeing facility. On the way, Bear explained that even though it was primarily a civilian facility, the security was rather strict and we had to wear identification badges at all times. He took me to the appropriate office to get my badge, and then we drove to the building where our offices were located.

We passed the security guard at the front desk after showing him our identification, and then walked down a series of hallways until we came to a set of double doors. Bear showed me the scanning device on the wall next to the door, and said "Usually you'll just scan your badge and the doors will unlock, but it takes them a day or so to get that all activated. So we'll just use mine for now." He scanned his badge and I heard the locks click open.

As he opened the door I saw a young woman sitting behind a reception desk, and another woman standing in front of the desk, talking to the receptionist. They both looked at Bear and more or less squealed a greeting to him.

"Bear!! We didn't know you were back! Everyone has been so worried about you!" The receptionist came out from behind the desk and sidled up next to Bear. "Who's your friend?" she asked.

"This is Major Edward Masen, the new pilot. Edward, this is Lauren Mallory and Jessica Stanley."

"Hi," they breathed in unison.

"Nice to meet you," I replied. I was a little startled by their appearance – the way they were dressed seemed more appropriate for a nightclub than an office environment in the middle of the day.

_Well, it IS southern California. Maybe they're just more laid back here._

Bear said, "Ladies, I have to take Major Masen here to meet Colonel Cullen and get his paperwork sorted."

"Oh, sure," Lauren replied. "Major Masen, if you need anything at all, please let me know, okay?"

"Okay, thanks."

Somehow her offer of help seemed not quite as innocent as old Mrs. Swanson's had been the day before. But, I reminded myself that it had been a long time since I'd spent any appreciable time around civilian women who weren't part of my family – maybe I was reading too much into her behavior.

Once we were out of earshot, I said to Bear, "They seemed…friendly."

Bear coughed a little. "Friendly's one way of putting it."

We came to another desk, where a middle-aged woman sat typing at a computer. She looked up and noticed us.

"Bear, dear, so good to have you back. This must be Major Masen?"

"Please, ma'am, call me Edward."

"Of course, dear, if that's what you prefer. I'm Mrs. Cope. Bear, Carlisle's in his office, you two just go on in."

We walked into Colonel Cullen's office, and saw that he was on the phone. He looked up at us and smiled, holding up a finger to let us know he wouldn't be long. I looked around his office and noticed a number of awards, along with numerous photos of a lovely woman with caramel-colored hair and several children.

When his phone call ended, he stood up and came around the desk to shake hands with Bear and I.

"Major Masen, so glad to have you with us."

"Thank you, sir. It's an honor to be assigned here."

"Call me Carlisle, please. We're very casual here and only observe the usual rules when the brass come to visit. I see Bear has already taken you to get your badge. Mrs. Cope has put together an excellent orientation packet for all of our new pilots, but if you have any questions or run into any problems at all, please don't hesitate to ask me, okay?"

"Thank you, sir. I mean, Carlisle. I hope you'll call me Edward."

"Certainly, Edward. My wife, Esme, is anxious to welcome you as well. She always hosts a party for the new pilots, but unfortunately we'll have to put it off for a couple of weeks. Our two eldest children have a slew of soccer tournaments coming up and our weekends are booked solid for a bit."

"That's very kind of her, but I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"Not at all, she loves having a house full of people. Isn't that right, Bear?"

"Esme's the hostess with the mostest, that's for sure. She makes us all feel right at home," Bear replied.

Carlisle smiled in response. "Well, unfortunately I have a budget meeting to attend. Edward, Mrs. Cope will have that orientation packet for you. Bear, Edward's going to be in Peter's old office, can you show him where it is?"

"Absolutely. I thought I'd introduce him around, but it seems awfully quiet in here today."

"Yes, all the Boeing people are in the hangar, looking over the airplane you two returned to us. Command is anxious to get it back in service, so the engineers are checking out the extent of the damage," reported Carlisle.

Bear and I nodded in understanding and followed Carlisle out of his office. "I'll see you both on Monday morning – be sure and get some rest in before then, alright?"

We replied that we would, and I collected my orientation packet from Mrs. Cope. She instructed me to fill out the various forms contained inside and return them to her on Monday.

I thanked her, and then Bear showed me where my new office was located. With windows that looked out over the airport, it was much nicer than any office I'd occupied in the past. Bear offered to drive me home afterward, and I looked forward to a relaxing weekend before starting my new assignment.

I spent the weekend settling into my new home and walking around the neighborhood. Monday morning I woke up early, excited to get to work. When I arrived at the Boeing facility and entered the engineering area, I was once again greeted by Lauren and Jessica.

"Hi, Major Masen!"

_Okay, the speaking in tandem thing is bit…odd._

"Good morning, ladies. How are you?"

Lauren stood up and leaned over the desk, and I noticed that once again she was showing considerably more skin than was probably appropriate in an office environment.

"We're great, Major Masen. How are you?" she cooed.

"Fine, thanks. Eager to get to work," I answered as I started moving toward the hallway entrance.

"Okay, you know where we are if you need anything!" Lauren all but shouted at me as I walked down the hall.

There was something about her that made me distinctly uncomfortable. Maybe she was just really outgoing and she spoke to everyone like that, but I got a definite _"I'm more than willing to blow you in the supply closet"_ vibe from her. I preferred a more subtle approach.

Over the years I had encountered a lot of women who were very turned on by the uniform. I didn't mind that, in the abstract. When it came right down to it, though, I wanted someone who wanted me for me, not for my job or for the glamour that they thought being with me would bring to their lives.

I found my new office, and took the photos I had brought with me out of my bag, placing them on the shelves. My parents, Maggie, her husband and kids all smiled back at me, and already I felt more at home here.

I followed the instructions Mrs. Cope had given me and logged into the computer, finding my e-mail inbox already contained several messages. I spent the next half hour or so reading through them, before Bear came and found me.

"Edward! How are you, man? All settled into your new house?"

"I'm good, Bear, thanks. And yeah, all settled in. I like my neighborhood, and it's cool being close to the beach."

"There's a group of us that play beach volleyball on the beach near your house – you'll have to join us. Jasper plays, too. Mrs. Cope said he's at a doctor's appointment with his wife this morning but he'll be in around lunchtime – I know he's been eager for you to arrive."

"That sounds great, I'd love to join you. I'm looking forward to seeing Jasper, too."

"If he gets here in time for lunch we can all go out. In the meantime, you want to meet some of the Boeing people? Mrs. Cope said most of them are in the big conference room working on a plan to repair the aircraft from Bagram," Bear informed me.

"Okay," I answered as I rose from my chair. I followed him out of the office and down a long hallway to an open door, which lead into a large conference room.

There were maybe twenty people in the room, all standing around the conference table, looking over various stacks of paper. My eyes were immediately drawn to two women standing next to each other, both of whom were downright gorgeous.

One was tall and blonde, with the figure of a swimsuit model and an equally beautiful face. She was a knockout, but not really my type.

_The other one, though…damn._

She was not quite as tall as the blonde, and had very dark brown hair pulled up into some elaborate sort of twist-thing. She had creamy ivory skin and plump pink lips. I couldn't tell what color her eyes were, as she was looking down at some papers on the table. As Bear and I walked around the table toward the two women – who still hadn't noticed us, apparently – I let my eyes rake over her body. She was wearing a tailored blouse, a snug-fitting skirt, and shoes that I would definitely classify as "fuck me pumps". Her outfit, combined with the stockings she was wearing, immediately conjured some very dirty "naughty librarian" fantasies in my mind.

_Good God, she's amazing. It's like someone created the epitome of my fifteen-year-old self's fantasy woman. _

I hoped I wasn't being too terribly obvious as I ogled her, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from her glorious ass and those stockings.

_They have those lines down the back, like pin-up girls used to wear. I didn't know they still made stockings like that. _

The blonde nudged her, and she turned around to face Bear and I. I saw that her eyes were a deep, chocolate brown. She smiled brightly at us, the most beautiful smile I had ever seen, and I was lost.

I didn't know this woman – didn't know her name, or the first thing about her. But suddenly I could see a future with her. A little house, close enough to the beach that we could walk, maybe a dog and a couple of kids. I had thought about those things before in the abstract, but never had I wanted them with someone I actually knew.

_Actually, dipshit, you don't know her, either._

All these thoughts flashed through my mind in an instant, and then she stepped toward us.

Or rather, she stepped toward Bear.

She reached out and took his hands in hers, holding them between their bodies. She smiled again – that beautiful smile, _my smile_. But it wasn't for me, it was for Bear.

"You're back," she said to Bear. Her voice was lovely – sweet and sultry. It was also full of obvious relief.

"Of course, I promised I'd come back safe, didn't I?" Bear replied.

I glanced between them, noticing the affection that was apparent on both of their faces, the way they still held each other's hands, and the fact that a room full of people were averting their eyes and attempting to give them some privacy.

I came to the sad, sudden realization that I had finally met the girl of my dreams, and that she was apparently in love with my new friend.

**Songs from the chapter:**

The Clash – Should I Stay or Should I Go?

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=V1Gn0e7kvTA

Dead Kennedys – Too Drunk to Fuck

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=l7TWLxCIgwE

Bad Religion – Let Them Eat War

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=hHRTI8dnjp4

"Rhinoceros" quote shamelessly poached from _Apollo 13_ (although a similar quote also appears in _Point Break_).

**Author's Note #2: **Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed – I'm doing my best to respond to all of you! I'm also hoping to keep to a regular posting schedule. This chapter took a bit longer than I had wanted – I'm getting ready to start a new job and things are hectic.

About Edward's reaction to Bella – I know the whole "love at first sight" thing is a little cliché, but a lot of their early relationship is going to be based on how I met my husband. We met the first day I started work at Boeing, when my new boss introduced us. He swears that I smiled at him and he knew then that he was going to marry me (even though it took him months to get his act together and ask me out). Anyway, he's been telling that story for 13 years, so he's either completely full of it or that rarest of species – the hopelessly romantic engineer.

Thanks for sharing your stories about how you keep yourselves entertained at work! Joayla told me about betting how long speeches would last and the assorted sweepstakes they had. My "pen pal" o2b18 had me in stitches with her account of a septuagenarian re-enactment of Samson and Delilah (two words, my dear: YouTube). Bookgeek80 is another Buzzword Bingo veteran – yay! Last but not least, imjacksbrokenheart used to play a very interesting version of "Law Enforcement Caravan Name That Tune".

**Story/author rec****:** I am extremely fortunate to be one of the betas on a wonderful story called "Awake in the Infinite Cold" by quothme. Her writing is so incredibly lovely, and creates such vivid imagery – I am in awe of her talent. Also, if you don't want to take her Edward home and hug him and feed him Hot Pockets, I'll eat a shoe. Hand to God.

**Question:** Do you believe in love at first sight?


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3- "So there I was, flat on my back…"**_

**Author's Note: **My sincerest apologies for the delay in getting this chapter to you all – my bullshit excuses are at the end of the chapter. My amazing beta laraisawkward is made of awesomesauce. Her story "When the Words Scream" is wonderful and original. Go check it out!

Some of you caught on when Alice said that Bella was their only single friend and want to know what's going on with Rose. This chapter should answer that question for you. However, you should know that I'm tragically canon, and Rose's current romantic situation may not be permanent.

**Acronym/terminology explanations:**

AMC = Air Mobility Command, the organization that oversees the activities of all of the Air Force's aircraft

LGB = three-letter identifier for the Long Beach airport in California, where the Boeing C-17 facility is located

"Wheels down" = "we're on the ground"

**Things I own:** A shelf full of stupidly expensive reference books, none of which contain data on pooping frequency.

**Things I don't own: **Twilight or the C-17 (or any other airplane, for that matter. Dammit).

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

BPOV

A week had passed since Bear left for Afghanistan. Carlisle was receiving regular updates from Command, so we knew that he had arrived safely. At the daily status meeting, he had informed us that Bear and Major Masen had completed the flight leg from Bagram to Qatar, and would be departing for Sicily around six o'clock in the evening our time here in California. I was relieved that the first flight was over, although I wouldn't be completely comfortable until they were back safely. I didn't know Major Masen, but I knew he was friends with Jasper, and surely he had a family and friends who loved him and would grieve him if something went wrong. As for Bear, I knew I was only one of a large number of people who would be devastated by his loss.

_Stop being morbid, Bella. All this negative thinking can't be good karma._

I returned my attention to the proposed changes to the Head-Up Display I was reviewing in an attempt to divert myself from my previous train of thought. It worked, and I lost myself in numbers and symbols for the next few hours.

"You up for tacos and margaritas for dinner? Kate and Angela are coming."

I looked up to see Rose standing in the doorway to my office.

"Sure, I'm in."

I grabbed my purse and followed Rose out of the office. Angela Weber, our administrative assistant, sat at her desk talking to Captain Kate McDermott, the Flight Physiologist for the test wing.

Kate looked up and smiled. "Come on chiquitas, first round is on me. We're celebrating – my man got his paperwork today, he'll be home in eight weeks!"

Kate's husband Garrett was also in the Air Force, and had been deployed to a base in Iraq for the last nine months. We were all thrilled to hear that he was coming home soon.

A short time later, we were seated at a sidewalk table at our favorite Mexican restaurant, drinking margaritas, and nibbling on chips and salsa.

"So Garrett also mentioned when I talked to him that he's heard only good things about our new pilot."

"Well, I hope his information is accurate," Rose answered. "Dealing with that douchebag Hunter is bad enough, I can't imagine if we had two of them."

We all groaned and nodded. At one point or another, all four of us had been on the receiving end of Captain Hunter's unwanted advances, and he'd subsequently acted like a complete dickhead for turning him down. He'd been a bit tamer in the last few months, though – I had heard rumors that Carlisle had talked to him about his behavior. That would have an effect, but I had also heard from Seth Clearwater that he had overheard Bear threaten Hunter with bodily harm if he didn't quit harassing all the female staff. Hunter seemed the type to take that sort of threat much more seriously.

"We'll find out soon enough, I suppose," said Kate. "Bear should be back with him in a week or so…Hey, I forgot to tell you all about the ridiculous meeting I was in right before Bear left."

"Aren't most of our meetings ridiculous?" I joked.

"Yes, true, but this was without a doubt the absolute pinnacle of ridiculousness. We had a videoconference with AMC to talk about how the damage to the aircraft might affect the flight crew. When the bottom of the fuselage was sheared off, it damaged the piping coming from the lavatories, so they were unusable. They weren't worried about the guys having to take a pee, because they've got that spot in the cargo compartment where they can pee in the tube. However, they were worried about them not being able to go number two. So this lieutenant general sits there with a straight face and asks me how long a person can go without having to poop."

As Rose and I erupted in a fit of giggles, Angela asked, "Did he actually use the word poop?"

"No. His phrase was 'moving their bowels.' It was all I could do not to burst into giggles like these two," Kate answered, while pointing to Rose and I.

"So what did you tell him?" I asked.

"I told him the truth – that I didn't have any reliable data on the frequency with which men move their bowels."

"So what are they going to do if they have to go?" Rose asked.

"Apparently they were going to put some plastic bags on board, just in case."

_Those poor guys – I can't imagine having to poop in a bag; although Bear would come back and share the story like a badge of honor. Ew – I hope he doesn't have to do it, mainly because I don't want to hear about it._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, and late Thursday afternoon found Rose and me in her car, headed for San Diego. All four of Rose's brothers had attended the US Naval Academy, like their father, and now were all officers in the Navy. Two of her brothers were currently stationed in San Diego, and the one closest to her in age had just had a baby with his wife a few weeks ago. The baby's christening was to be held on Sunday, and all of Rose's family was coming in for the weekend to celebrate. Her parents had rented a house on Coronado Island for the weekend, and we were all going to stay there and enjoy a mini-vacation of sorts.

I adored Rose's family – they were loud and friendly, and welcomed newcomers with open arms. Rose's mom and my own had bonded while we were still at MIT, and were close friends to this day. They had actually invited my mom to come and stay for the christening, but her elementary school art students were holding a show for their parents this weekend, and she needed to be there to coordinate all of the details.

The other notable absence, both in the car and at this weekend's festivities, was Rose's boyfriend, Royce King.

_Oh, sorry – "Royce King the Second" – as he likes to introduce himself. Pretentious jackass._

So, yeah – I didn't like him. He didn't mistreat Rosalie, exactly, he was just self-absorbed and his career _always_ came first. He showered her with flowers and other gifts, but I suspected that he liked her because she was smart, successful, and made him look good. It was no secret that his goal was to be CEO of Boeing someday, and I believed he was with Rose because he thought she could help him get there.

I had asked her earlier in the week if he was coming with us, and she told me that he said he couldn't make it because he had a Management Club dinner this weekend. That was such a ridiculous excuse – they had those dinners once a month, surely he could miss one. Her nephew was only going to be christened once. I didn't say anything to Rose, though. I didn't have to – she already knew what I thought of Royce.

She maintained that he was supportive of her career, and that not many guys would be like that, so he was worth hanging on to. I thought that was a crock of shit, frankly, but it was an old argument, and rehashing it wasn't going to do either of us any good. I was hoping that sooner or later she would realize that she could do better than Royce, and would kick him to the curb. When that happened, I would be there to support her.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text, and I was thrilled to see it was from Bear.

"_Wheels down LGB – C U tomorrow?"_

"Based on your smile, I'm going to guess that text is from Bear, saying they're back safe?" Rose asked.

"Yes, they've just landed. He asked if he was going to see us tomorrow, I'll just text him back and let him know we'll be in the office Monday."

"_Nope, going to San Diego for Rose's nephew's christening. See you Monday."_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Angela greeted me with a smile on Monday morning as I approached my office.

"How was your weekend? Did the christening go well?"

"It was wonderful. Henry's such a good baby, he didn't even cry. Rose is running a bit behind this morning, though. She overindulged in the champagne yesterday, and I had to drive us home last night."

"Ugh, champagne hangovers are the worst, I swear," Angela said. "There's a meeting at nine o'clock to go over the repair plans for the airplane Bear brought back, so you have some time if you want to go to the hangar and see it for yourself."

I laughed, "You know me so well. I'll go right over – will you tell Rose that's where I am when she finally drags her butt in here?"

Rose met me about half an hour later as I was walking around under the airplane, assessing the damage.

"So, you think anybody had to poop in a bag?" she asked.

"Good God, please don't ask. You know Bear would be more than happy to share all the gory details with us."

Rose liked to poke fun at me for being "squeamish and girly," as she put it. After growing up with four brothers, there was no subject too disgusting for her.

"Okay, I'll go easy on you because you took care of my drunk ass yesterday. We'd better get going; it's nearly time for that meeting."

We found the conference room full of our fellow engineers, all scrutinizing various drawings, schematics and plans for repairing the aircraft. Command wanted the airplane back in service as soon as possible, so we had to figure out how to complete the repairs in the least amount of time feasible.

I was concentrating on a wiring diagram when I felt Rose nudge my side. I turned around and immediately saw Bear standing there with a big grin on his face. That familiar grin put a big smile on my own face, and I stepped toward him, reaching for his hands.

"You're back," I said, the relief apparent in my voice. It was a stupid thing to say, really. Of course he was back; I had known that for days. I wanted to smack him for making me worry for the last couple of weeks, but I knew that wasn't fair. Worrying about someone while they were doing something risky was one thing, but I knew my paranoia and morbid thoughts about something bad happening to Bear were a direct result of my father's death. That was my own baggage, and I needed to carry it alone.

"Of course, I promised I'd come back safe, didn't I?" Bear replied.

I wanted to hug him, but we were in a room full of people – some watching our encounter avidly, others averting their eyes. I knew there were a few people who already thought that Bear and I were more than friends because of the casual and friendly way we interacted with each other. I didn't need to fuel those rumors by hugging him in the middle of the conference room.

I released his hands and took a small step back. It was then that I noticed that Bear was not alone. With him was…

_Oh, wow. That has to be the most beautiful specimen of a man I have ever laid eyes on._

I had never thought to use the word "beautiful" in reference to a man before, but this man was beautiful. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and had the most piercing green eyes I had ever seen. My father had once given my mother a small statue of an elephant, carved from jade. His eyes were the exact color of that jade statue.

He had a little bump on the bridge of his nose, like maybe it had been broken at one point. He also had a really strong, defined jawline. He was beautiful, but in a very masculine way.

_Masculine, but beautiful? Does that even make sense? Eh, whatever…his eyes are hypnotic and I kinda want to lick that jaw._

I realized that I was staring, and quickly shifted my gaze back to Bear. I could feel a blush burning my cheeks and hoped that no one would notice.

"Bella, this is Major Edward Masen, our new test pilot. Edward, this is Dr. Bella Swan and Dr. Rosalie Hale. They're with the Systems Engineering group here at Boeing."

As Bear made the introductions, I glanced at Major Masen again and attempted a small smile. Major Masen looked a bit uncertain as to how to greet us, which wasn't surprising given that he'd only recently returned from deployment. My manners saved me from my own awkwardness, and I held out my hand for him to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Major Masen. I hope you'll like it here," I said as he grasped my hand.

The moment our skin made contact, I felt a tingling sensation, almost like a spark. I looked at him to see if he felt it, too, but his eyes were focused on our joined hands.

He made eye contact with me briefly before glancing back down and quietly saying, "Please, call me Edward. It's…nice to meet you, too, Dr. Swan."

"Bella, please," I requested as I wondered why he seemed so uncomfortable.

Rose moved forward then to shake his hand, and the introductions continued around the room.

Once Bear had introduced him to everyone, he said that he was taking Major Masen – _Edward_ – to see Carlisle and they left the room. I realized I was staring at the empty doorway, and turned around to find Rose smirking at me.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," she answered. "Nothing at all."

_Yeah, right – like I believe that line of bullshit. She's definitely thinking something devious, she'll just wait until I'm off-guard and then she'll attack. She must have noticed my blush, and she's like a pit bull when she gets something in her mind. She'll make me dissect that whole interaction to figure out why I blushed like a schoolgirl. Time to get my game face on._

"Take a look at this wiring diagram – do you think we'll need to replace all these harnesses?" I asked.

She gave me a look that clearly said that she wasn't going to forget what she had seen, and then looked at the diagram I was holding and we got back to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that afternoon I was back in my office, looking over the agenda for the briefing we were to give Major Masen tomorrow. Whenever we got a new flight test pilot, all of the various engineering groups would put together presentations on the design changes we were currently working on, in order to bring them up to speed.

Kate poked her head in my office and said, "Bella, can you come in Rose's office for a minute? I need to ask you all something."

"Sure," I replied, and followed her out.

As we passed Angela's desk, Kate said, "Angie, I think you need to be in on this, too."

Angela looked at me with a raised eyebrow, but I just shrugged and nodded my head toward Rose's office, indicating she should come with us.

Once we were all inside, Kate closed the door behind her with a grin and took a deep breath before blurting out, "Holy shit! Have you seen the new pilot?"

"Major Masen?" Angela asked.

"Major hotness is more like it," Kate replied. "Damn, that man is fine. Tall – you know I like them tall – great ass, and did you see the sex hair? I don't know how that hot mess is regulation, but I don't give a damn. It would be a crime to cut it. Makes you want to grab hold and just…."

"Kate! You're a married woman!" I reminded her.

"So? I've got eyes in my head, don't I? Just because I'm married doesn't mean I can't enjoy the scenery. Besides, Garrett and I have a policy – it doesn't matter where you get your appetite, as long as you eat at home. And since I can't currently share a meal with my man, if you know what I'm saying, Major Sexmuffin will make excellent dildo fodder."

As Angela and I giggled like schoolgirls, Rose chuckled and said, "Dildo fodder – that's a good one, Kate. And you're right, he is a fine specimen of a man, isn't he, Bella?"

"Yes, very attractive," I answered.

"Is that all?" Rose asked. "Because it looked to me like you two had a moment there."

"Rose, we exchanged maybe a dozen words and spent less than five minutes in the same room together. The only thing we shared was an awkward handshake and maybe some static electricity. Besides, we know almost nothing about him. Yes, he's beautiful, but he could also turn out to be a complete douchebag."

"Pfft – so pessimistic. Bear seems to like him, and he's a pretty good judge of character," Rose replied. "Angela, have you seen him?"

When Angela replied that she had, Rose asked for her opinion.

"He certainly is gorgeous. It'll be nice to have the eye candy around to enjoy, even if he does turn out to be a jerk."

"How long do you suppose it will take before the office whores make a move on him?" Kate asked.

"Lauren and Jessica? Those skanks won't waste any time. They're like sharks getting a whiff of blood in the water. They're probably already hatching their evil little plot to get him involved in a threesome – coming up with excuses to go by his office, offering to help him get 'settled in'," Rose replied.

For some reason the thought of Lauren or Jessica – or both – getting their hooks into Edward really bothered me. The idea of him being a douchebag bothered me, too. I realized that I wanted his insides to be as worthy of admiration as his outside, and it had nothing to do with our future working relationship. I wanted him to be a decent guy. I wanted to justify my attraction to him. It's not like I'd never noticed a handsome guy before – as Kate said, I had eyes in my head after all – but I'd never been interested in a man based solely on his looks.

_So, you're interested in him now?_ I asked myself.

I thought about it, and realized that I was interested in him. At the very least I wanted to get to know him and find out what made him tick. The realization that I was interested in Edward on a personal level was disturbing. I was leery of getting involved with someone from work. I knew that there were already rumors circulating about Bear and me, and our relationship was purely platonic. I didn't like the idea of my coworkers speculating about my romantic life, in the event I ever actually acquired one.

Then there was the possibility of a breakup. Everyone would know about it, and I'd still have to work with him every day.

_Great, now I'm contemplating the end of a purely hypothetical "relationship" with a man I barely know. I'm insane – is it any surprise I have no love life?_

Actually, even I know that was an oversimplification. It wasn't like I was completely lacking in offers or opportunities. But there were always…complications. At work, I was surrounded by smart, successful men. Getting involved with a coworker was tricky, though – Rose and I had worked so hard to be taken seriously, both at MIT and at Boeing. We were young and female in an industry that was very much an "old boys' club." Outside of work, it seemed that every guy I met was just an overgrown frat boy. As a result, it had been a while since I had really dated anyone.

Growing up in the military, with a dad who was a pilot, I had seen with my own eyes the way some women threw themselves at pilots. My mom had been surprisingly sanguine about it. She trusted my dad, and knew that she was the love of his life. She was never threatened by the random, nameless women, and my dad had never expressed any interest in them. My dad had been a pretty handsome guy, in my opinion, but Major Masen was undeniably the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on.

Anyone that good looking was undoubtedly used to being on the receiving end of a lot of female attention. The fact that he was a pilot probably made him even more attractive to many women, but his looks alone were sure to lure them in large numbers. For all I knew he was a complete manwhore.

I realized that I was trying to talk myself out of liking him, but my rationalizations were ultimately for the best. On the remote, outside chance that he would even be interested in me, a relationship between us would be difficult. Even if we managed to navigate the potential minefields of a workplace relationship, he was a career military pilot who would eventually be reassigned. While I didn't regret anything about my childhood, I also didn't want to live at the beck and call of military personnel assignments anymore.

_Better to just get any romantic notions of him out of your head, Bella. You can work together, just don't get too friendly. Keep it professional, __not__ personal. Be pragmatic, it's always been one of your strengths._

A loud knock on Rose's office door pulled me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the others to see Rose and Angela staring at Kate, who had her hands out in front of her, mimicking squeezing something. Meanwhile Rose and Angela were obviously trying not to laugh. There was another knock at the door, but the three of them just stood there, frozen.

"I'll just get the door then, shall I?" I asked as I stood and moved across the room.

When I opened the door, I found Bear standing there with his hand poised to knock again. Jasper and Edward – _Major Masen, keep it professional_ – stood behind him with curious looks on their faces. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Kate rapidly withdraw her hands and put them behind her back when she noticed who was at the door.

Bear peered past me and asked, "What the heck are you all doing in there? It's taco time, and I'm starving!"

At that, Rose and Angela both let loose the laughter they'd been holding in, and Kate actually snorted. Bear looked at me with an eyebrow raised in question, but I just shook my head and ushered the three men back into the reception area near Angela's desk.

"So, you're introducing Major Masen to taco night?" I asked Bear as I smiled politely, but not too warmly, at Major Masen.

"Of course! What kind of a friend would I be if I didn't share all of my favorite things with him?"

I noticed Major Masen grimace slightly when he heard Bear's words, but he quickly rearranged his face into a polite, noncommittal smile.

_That was…odd. They seemed to be getting along just fine. Although, Major Masen does seem a bit reserved – Bear's boisterous nature can take some getting used to._

"Jasper, is Alice going to meet us there?" I asked.

"No, she has teacher-parent conferences tonight, so I'm just going to pick something up and take it to her."

"Aw, you're such a good husband," Kate said as she finally came out of Rose's office.

"She has me trained well," Jasper replied with a smile.

"Bella, move your ass and get your stuff – I'm hungry," Rose called as she and Angela emerged from her office.

I quickly gave her the finger, then retrieved my purse from my office and joined the others as they walked toward the building exit. As we passed through the main reception area, I noticed Jessica leaning up against Lauren's desk.

_Seriously, do they ever do any actual work? It's like they're permanently joined at the hip, and all they do is gossip and talk about the men in the area._

"Hi Major Masen!" they chimed in unison. As Major Masen gave them a small nod and wave, Rose glanced over at me and rolled her eyes.

We all piled into our respective cars, and a short while later entered the Mexican restaurant that was the home of our weekly taco night. The manager, Carmen, greeted us all and Bear introduced her to Major Masen.

As we walked to our usual table, Carmen asked him, "Edward, are you going to become one of our weekly regulars, along with this crowd?"

"Of course he is!" Bear announced.

Carmen put a hand on her hip and stared Bear down.

"Was I speaking to you?" she asked him.

"No ma'am," Bear replied sheepishly.

"And is it nice manners to interrupt your friends?"

"No ma'am."

"Do you have something you'd like to say to Edward?"

"Sorry I interrupted you, Edward," Bear mumbled.

"Um…apology accepted."

"Okay, now that we've settled that, Edward, what would you like to drink?" asked Carmen.

"A Pacifico please. Ma'am."

As Carmen walked away, Bear leaned over to Edward and said, "She has three boys, and no problem telling you when she thinks you're being rude. So mind your p's and q's."

"I will, definitely," Edward replied.

Once our drinks were delivered and we had ordered approximately half our total body weight in tacos, the conversation shifted as we all began to ask Edward questions about himself and his experiences flying.

Bear was particularly interested in Edward's time flying as a Thunderbird, the Air Force's demonstration team that regularly performed at airshows. Bear really loved fighter planes, but as big as he was, there was no way he would ever fit in the cockpit of one. He loved flying the C-17, but I suspected there was a part of him that wished he'd had the chance to try flying fighters.

I wondered why Ed- _Major Masen_ – had switched from flying F-16 fighters to flying a cargo transport aircraft like the C-17. It wasn't unheard of for pilots to switch to flying a different airplane at some point in their careers, but switching from flying fighters to flying cargo aircraft was unusual. When it did happen, it was generally because there was a performance reason why the pilot could no longer fly the faster, more maneuverable fighter. That seemed unlikely given Major Masen's history as a Thunderbird – obviously his skills as a pilot were excellent. The Thunderbirds were widely considered to be the best pilots in the Air Force.

I was curious about the switch, but I wasn't going to ask. I didn't want to bring up a sensitive subject if the switch hadn't been his choice.

Another issue was that Major Masen seemed…reticent with me. He was unfailingly polite, but seemed hesitant to make eye contact. Whenever I directed my attention toward him, he would immediately look away. It was as if he was determined to keep some space between us.

_Well, it's for the best. Just leave it alone, Bella._

As we finished dinner, Rose brought up the briefing we were giving Major Masen tomorrow.

"Everyone has put their slides together for your briefing, Edward. Just remember that you're the sole audience, so if you have any questions or concerns at all, just shout them right out. Don't worry about interrupting."

"Okay, Rose – thanks," he replied.

He smiled at her and looked her right in the eye.

_Maybe it's just me he doesn't want to engage in conversation – he's fine with Rose. Well, whatever. It's for the best anyway. Keep it professional, remember?_

My rational brain kept reminding me that it was better this way – it was a good thing that there was some emotional distance between us, if we only related to each other as a pilot and an engineer, not as a man and a woman. Still, my rational brain couldn't keep me from feeling a bit melancholy as Edward quietly bid me goodnight with barely a glance in my direction.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note #2:** SM may own Twilight, but my fabulous beta laraisawkward coined the phrase "office whores" to refer to Jessica and Lauren. She cracks me the fuck up on a regular basis.

Kate's story about the meeting where she was asked how long someone can go without pooping? That happened to me. Trufax.

I am so very sorry it took me more than a month to get you this chapter. I never intended for so much time to pass between updates, but real life has been crazy lately. New job, travel, family stuff, volunteer commitments, etc. I am attempting to carve an hour out of each day to write, so hopefully the next chapter will come more quickly. I have every intention of finishing this story – I have an outline and everything. The good news is that the new job is giving me lots of ideas for the story – I spent the last week in the flight simulator with two very hot coworkers.

Thanks to everyone who has read and/or reviewed. I am utter fail at replying to reviews, but I promise to try and do better!

**Story/author rec:** "So Be It" by SophiaAnne

www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/s/4843214/1/So_Be_It

This one is funny and angsty and sexy and complete. Yep, complete – hallelujah. It's a quick read with just a few chapters, but Edward has a nice dirty mouth on him and Bella writes poetry and…well, just read it.


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